Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) (16 page)

I willed relaxation, willed openness, picked up the threads of data, riding them, querying them. They felt right. Ship’s robots tucking themselves into safe positions, thrusters opening for the slight turn down, the ship’s gentle response, less dissonant than braking. Smooth.

Time passed, a readying, a waiting. Through it all Marcus was there beside me, doing nothing. Not approaching, not falling away. Just watching. Perhaps he knew he frightened me?

I checked and rechecked. Aware always of the strange presence that didn’t belong there with me, but made no new moves. The joy of flying took me, and I rode down deep in the ship’s embrace, offering myself to it totally. It seemed like days, but time immersed in data is tricky, and I knew we approached the atmosphere in a lazy slow circle around the planet that really only took hours.

Other ships flew through the space, keeping distance, going about their business.

I watched our trajectory, marking time by our movement. I had left Fremont’s atmosphere in this ship; I knew what to expect. Braced. The
New Making
shivered as we touched the shell of air around Silver’s Home, slowed, shivered harder, but she didn’t buck, didn’t alter course. Her skin heated and tiny coolers in the smooth surface absorbed the heat and fell away, skin shedding, their sensors ripping from me as they separated, new ones awakening. The
New Making
fought free, and then we were through the atmosphere, and on a long, slow course for our landing.

Thirst and heat pulled at me, demanding to be slaked and damped. The ship was past the point of no return; she would land. For now, a few long moments of simple flight inside the atmosphere. I set alarms to tell me if Marcus did anything, unsure if I knew how to really tell.

Irrationally, I wanted him to tell me how well I’d done. As if I should trust him. Not yet!

At the surface of the data, I twisted my head. “Straps. Take it off.”

No response. Oh, right, they were strapped in, too. “Jenna?”

Then she was at my side, loosening the brow strap. I reached for her. She handed me a glass of water, and as soon as I drank it, she bathed me in more water so it dripped down my face on either side,
making small puddles in the chair, cooling my heated skin. “You’ve done well so far.”

I licked the water from my lips, smelling my own sweat and exhaustion.

“Are you ready to take us down?”

I’d never landed. Just taken off. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Sure, ready as I’ll ever be.” Marcus wouldn’t let me make a fatal mistake. The thought startled me. Was it right? “Marcus knew my father.”

She blinked at me. “Yes.” Her hand stroked my forehead, soothing. “Don’t ask now. Finish this.”

“Did you call your sister?”

“Not yet. It’s time for you to go back down.”

I went.

Landing was poetry of machinery and data, of the physical and of light. Flight: the big engines off now, the little thrusters adjusting, the ship’s surfaces adjusting, interacting with air and gravity and wind, slowing us. A dance—force and balance and weight, the pull of gravity and the strength of the engines.

A stop, far above, seconds or less, our nose pointed up at the sky we’d just powered through. Silent engines. The beauty and sheer terror of being so big and resting against only sky, if just for the space of a quick breath.

The engines flaring to sudden life, a pillow of exhaust under us.

The long, slow settling of the ship as it lowered itself laboriously, carefully, to the surface. Marcus watching, a distant presence as we touched down.

And then it was just me, testing and checking one last time. All of the systems that controlled flight and movement quieted, each winking into rest. Even my companion Leo, gone to storage for the landing.

I
had landed the
New Making
. I was a spaceship pilot for sure now. I opened my eyes. Jenna leaned over me with a worried look, as she worked the straps free from the chair. “Come on. We need to hurry.” I was glad of her help; my arms felt too heavy to move.

Alicia and Bryan, already loose and standing, gathered around me. Alicia handed me a glass of water, her whole face shining with excitement. She leaned over and kissed me, right in front of Jenna and Bryan, then blushed and stepped back. My cheeks grew hot, too, and I smiled.

Bryan handed me a chunk of waybread. They watched closely as I sipped the water and bit into the dry, nutty bread. Jenna mopped the sweat from my forehead with a cool, damp towel.

“Marcus?” she asked. “Is he still here?”

“I can’t feel him anymore. He stayed until we landed.”

She pursed her lips. “I wish I knew why he was here at all. No matter now—we have work to do.” She glanced at Bryan and Alicia, both sweaty and in rumpled clothes. “You two—find some clean clothes. Brush your hair. Bryan, get the shirt I found for you yesterday.” She made a go-on gesture with her right hand. “Get ready. Try to look your best.”

Neither of them complained; they just moved off to their appointed tasks, Bryan limping but holding his own weight better than he had that morning.

Jenna reached her hand out, helping me stand.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed to sit on the edge of the chair,
breathing hard, my vision swimming. We must be feeling the planet’s natural gravity. I felt heavier than exhaustion alone could account for.

Jenna frowned. “We’ll give you a few minutes.” She glanced up at the wall screens, now both blank. “Stay here. Alicia and Bryan can take you to clean up when they get back. Wear your captain’s coat when we leave. They’ll need to know who landed us.” She started toward the door and turned back. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Just … tired.” With the bone-deep tiredness, elation. “But we did it.”

A smile broke through her frown, but just for a moment. “We did. Hurry. We’ve got a half-hour or so before the pad finishes cooling and gets prepared for us to disembark. I don’t want to be boarded—I told them we’d be outside soon.” She glanced down at her own clothes. “I have to change. Are you sure you’re okay until we get back?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded small and tired. I tried again. “I’m okay.” Better.

She left, and welcome silence surrounded me. My head filled the quiet with questions. What was out there? How much trouble could the Port Authority get us into? Me into? Heck, we’d landed well, we’d been safe. How much did they dislike Jenna? What about Marcus, who’d gone against their orders when he let us land? I stood again, my legs still shaky, and walked slowly to the sink, splashing cold water on my face to stop the questions I had no answers for.

Alicia and Bryan showed up shortly, scrubbed and clean, Alicia’s hair a dark velvet halo around her face, her strange, violet eyes almost glittering with excitement. I wanted to watch her forever, to have her kiss me again.

Surely there was no one so beautiful.

She bounced on her feet, taking my hand, standing close enough for me to smell soap on her skin, faint but pleasant. She did kiss me again, a soft brush of her lips against my cheek. I leaned down to kiss her properly, surprising her so she made a soft “oh” sound before returning the kiss. I tore my eyes from her to look at Bryan, who had turned his face away from us. The dark blue shirt Jenna had found for him hung loosely on him, not hiding his size, but covering some of his injuries.

The three of us went down to our quarters, where I pulled on a
pair of my own pants and a shirt that had belonged to my father: deep blue and silky soft. My fingers shook as I did up the buttons. Alicia helped me roll up the slightly too-long sleeves, then stood back, a quirky smile on her face. “You look quite handsome.”

Maybe. I didn’t feel handsome; I felt exhausted. I smiled back at her, pleased with her comment and glad she didn’t see how weak I felt. Bryan did. Even injured, his face still bruised and one leg still stiff when he moved, he reached a hand out to steady me. “Let’s go.”

When would I get back? Jenna hadn’t said not to take anything, and I wanted my father’s journal. I stuck the data button in my pants pocket, and reached for my mother’s jewelry, tucking it safely away in a big pocket inside the captain’s coat before I shrugged the coat on. I could give the jewelry to Chelo someday.

Back in the Command Room, we found Jenna pacing, dressed in bright green pants, black boots, and a loose gold shirt, the empty sleeve tucked inside. The outfit softened her, hiding both her scars and her strength. There was nothing to be done about her face, of course, but she’d trimmed up her hair and combed it in such a way that I saw more of the good side of her face than the bad. A bright blue beaded necklace hung down over her chest and matching earrings glittered below the short silver-streaked hair on either side of her face. She put a hand on the necklace. “My data access.” She shifted restlessly. “Let’s go.”

Wait. What had I missed? “Did you hear from Tiala? Did the Port Authority say anything else?”

“The Port Authority refused to let Tiala in. We’ll have to go to her. And no, no more messages from them. But there will be a greeting party.” As if we hadn’t heard it the first time, she cautioned us again. “Now remember, no one say anything unless I tell you to. Don’t let them separate us.”

We followed her into the elevator. She’d never let us use it before, but maybe it was meant for when the ship was on the ground? Or maybe she didn’t want to muss her clothes? I choked down a sputtering laugh.

We emerged from the elevator at the bottom level, standing close together just outside the closed door. Jenna turned and caught my eye. “No matter what anyone says, you did well.” She swept her gaze
across us all. “And for now at least, you are all members of the Family of Exploration. No matter what condition the group is in, that keeps you with me. Do you understand?”

We all nodded. Alicia took my hand and squeezed it, her fingers cool and dry. Bryan squared his shoulders, looking apprehensive. “Let’s get it over with,” he said.

Jenna raised an eyebrow at me and turned to look at the door. I opened myself again to the data flows and commanded the
New Making
to open the door and extend the ramp.

Silver’s Home hit me.

Noisy, unfamiliar information poured into me, scraping along already-exhausted nerves, setting muscles twitching. The data demanded attention. A thousand—no, a million, or a million million conversations, an inescapable babble even stronger than I’d sensed connected to Marcus. What scared me then had clearly been filtered. Now, chaos threatened my ability to focus, to think; swirling connections between threads forming, falling, and reforming; status of a thousand things I didn’t recognize; information structures so complex they rose and fell like living things. I stumbled into Bryan, who grunted in pain and grabbed for me, unable to stop my fall. I clamped down, shutting out the noise, my head throbbing. As the pain began to recede, I found myself in a ball on the floor, my hands over my head.

Time for ten breaths passed.

I looked up. Through blurry vision, I made out Jenna staring down at me. She said, “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I should have known how this place would affect you.” She reached down for my hand, and Alicia took the other, one rough hand, one soft.

I breathed, focusing on my roiling belly. No wonder their Wind Readers went crazy. “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.” My knees felt shakier than when I’d first stood up from my captain’s couch. Another deep breath. Wouldn’t it just be great to throw up all over Silver’s Home?

Nice first impression.

The ramp outside clicked down. I swallowed hard and straightened my shoulders.

If I could land the ship, I could walk out of her in one piece.

I kept myself closed off to data, empty, focused only on the here and now, on my breath, on standing firmly, shaking with the effort of such small things. I wished my voice sounded firmer as I asked, “Are we ready?”

“Stay near him, you two,” Jenna said to Bryan and Alicia. “We’ll walk slowly.”

We descended the ramp in small, slow steps, our heads high. A warm breeze dried the sweat from my face. I felt slightly heavier here than at home. Thankfully, not much.

My eyes swept Li Spaceport. Tall gleaming buildings with rounded edges dominated the view. A few short squat windowless buildings sat closer to the ships. Two of the spaceships loomed nearly the size of the taller buildings, their hulls bristling with protuberances that could be for scientific studies or could be weapons. Something about the way they looked made me guess weapons.

Most of the other ships were bigger than
New Making
.

Between the landing pads, red flowers lined gently curving walkways. Beyond the spaceport, empty spaces, then more buildings in almost every direction, each one bigger than anything we had on Fremont. Bright blue skies dotted with pure white clouds. A larger sun than ours, gleaming on ships and on the city, highlighting bright metallic colors around the spaceport and softer lavender and blue and gold on the buildings in the distance.

Air vehicles, mostly smaller than the
Burning Void
, traversed the sky in neat patterns. A bright bridge arched through the city in the distance, the glittering light making it seem to dance from building-top to building-top. Alicia gasped and Bryan’s hand went to my shoulder, gripping me tightly.

Fremont’s tiny spaceport smelled like oil and heat and dust, but this smelled of flowers and fresh air. Clean.

Such brightness everywhere felt almost as overwhelming as the flood of data. I focused on Jenna’s back, on my steps, on my balance and keeping the bread and water in my stomach where it belonged.

Beyond the neat crisp lines of Jenna’s gold shirt, I spotted four people standing at the bottom, watching our descent. Two women. Two men. All four wore dazzling white shirts emblazoned on the front right sides
with a silver rocket, fatter and squatter than
New Making
. Even with different hair colors, the four looked similar: high cheekbones, carefully swept hair cut so it fell loosely just above their shoulders, and tall slender builds.